


Lesson Objectives

by epithetta



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:57:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epithetta/pseuds/epithetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack starts to wonder if he remembered to apologise when he returned, especially when, one morning, he comes in to a box of freshly sharpened pencils, each one with a perfect set of bite marks on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesson Objectives

**Author's Note:**

> Written for utilising the writerinadrawer prompt 3.04: 500 words, in which a character must learn something new, and apparently an office supply must be mentioned? Thank you to my generous beta, sanginmychains.

Jack hates office work. He hates pencils, staplers, paperclips, anything that indicates the drudgery of an activity that forces him to sit in a chair for any length of time without a mouth around his dick. Sure, he likes the office vibe, but for a quick run around the chairs, a slap on a rounded arse, maybe a stint of groping on the copier as it flashes _blink fwrrr, blink fwrrr_. Later, he can admire his hands on a girl's arse in black and white or her candy-colour cunt in full 8 ½ by 11 glory. It's why he goes to browse machines at the Xerox wholesalers every year. He takes the 'sample' copies with him later and jacks off into a tube of them. Hey, he's sentimental.

He tells Ianto that he loves offices mostly because he had been looking for something to say and Ianto seemed to like offices. He'd been wearing that pink shirt, and Jack had wanted to lick it off him, tear it off him. Tie him up with it on the copier, _blink fwrrr, blink fwrrr_. 

It sort of. Really. _Gestates_ is the only word.

It starts a whole cascade of flirting quite shortly after John has fucked off. Ianto takes to flirtation like he does to all things—head on, no holds barred, petting and touching and scraping pens along each other's skin. A few well-placed papercuts. A Torchwood logo made with staples on a piece of paper. A chain of paperclips connecting the handle of his coffee mug to the plastic condom wrapper. A very angry set of bruises, made with a glass paperweight engraved with 'Boss of the Year'. 

Jack starts to wonder if he remembered to apologise when he returned, especially when, one morning, he comes in to a box of freshly sharpened pencils, each one with a perfect set of bite marks on it.

Well then.

It's true that there are things that even Jack will not do, but this isn't one of them, he discovers when he lets Ianto bite him so hard that he screams and he doesn't look because he knows that there's blood on his foreskin. There was blood already from the staple remover and the letter opener. 

Jack's grateful Ianto had waited until he'd come, because he couldn't have stayed hard, not through _that_ , no matter how much pain Jack might like, having his cock crunched like a corn cob is not something that maintains a hard-on. Well, maybe. 

Ianto smiles a little then, and Jack wonders when he learned that or if he always knew. Jack wonders what kind of teacher he's been, when Ianto laps at the indentations and tears his teeth have made on Jack's softening cock. He cannot begin to wonder what Ianto's teaching him, something unforgiving in the dimness of the office that has become their classroom.

He lets Ianto wipe him down with alcohol swabs and realises that he's sorely underestimated something. Under him, the copier hums, _blink fwrrr, blink fwrrr_.

 

END


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